Know Where the VINs Are Buried

Blown out roads and busted dreams,
Desert heat and meth smoke streams.
Steel-toothed dogs and backyard fires,
CB codes, drug chasing buyers.

Saw a regal on steelies with no damn tires,
Tail light bulb lit with shit held onto by pliers.
Kids trading gas for their pink slips in hand,
Runnin’ parts through the sands of this no-man’s land.


💥 [SCREAM] OH, I KNOW WHERE THE VINS ARE BURIED!!
Beneath the dirt, beneath the tumbleweeds,
Wrapped in a pipe, G.T.A. baby seeds.
🔥 I KNOW WHERE THE VINS ARE BURIED!!
Under hush-toned trades and midnight skies!


We ran a system outta broken code,
Took ‘em down the hill for a food stamp load.
Five days’ of hustling, siphoning gas out every time 
Then sit back and cause mayhem on everyone else’s dime

Heard drug deals crackle through the static,
Life was rough, raw, real, and manic.
Frame swaps, torch pops, cuttin’ steel—
Truth got stripped like a junkyard deal.

💥 [SCREAM] OH, I KNOW WHERE THE VINS ARE BURIED!!
Pink slips sleep in galvanized graves,
Waiting for the day, for the bold and the brave.
🔥 I KNOW WHERE THE VINS ARE BURIED!!
Till we chop that one last time and use what we save

Don’t need no badge, don’t need no map,
Just follow the trail of busted caps.
Hammered chrome and shattered glass—
The desert keeps what don’t move fast.

SCREAM] OH, I KNOW WHERE THE VINS ARE BURIED!!
I seen ’em dig up stolen names,
And weld ‘em to the dash and floor.
I KNOW WHERE THE VINS ARE BURIED!!
And hell, they’ll even change the door…

[SCREAM ] I KNOW WHERE THE VINS ARE BURIED!!

Rapid raspy grit, fast-paced Outlaw Metal, Southern Groovecore, fast snare, country train, vocal low,build tension